Fields of Wonder
by J Daydreamer
Summary: AU: Bering & Wells 1940's baseball story, inspired by a post on tumblr by ohsoblackandwhite. This story will partially follow the movie A League of Their Own, but incorporating the characters of Warehouse 13, will be its own story as well.
1. Chapter 1

_Chicago Club Owner, Artie Nielsen, the cookie king, met with other team owners in the Nielsen mansion as rumors persist that baseball may be shut down for the duration of the war. Nielsen's promotional wiz kid, Steve Jinks, has been given the job of figuring out how to keep baseball going. Good luck, Mr. Jinks, with that name, you'll need it._

One

Colorado Springs, Colorado April 1943

The sun sat high in the sky as Myka Bering surveyed the relief pitcher on the mound. The day was a warm one, and her face was damp with sweat, tendrils of her brunette curls matting her face streaked with dirt, but she'd been watching the pitcher closely during the last inning, and now as another member of her team struck out, she was confident of her assessment.

Myka jogged to catch up to the next batter.

"Hey, Claud," she said dropping her arm around the petite redhead's shoulder, "the pitcher's getting everyone out with the high ones, don't swing at it, okay?"

"I can hit it, Myka," the young girl protested.

Myka smiled and nodded. "Alright then, there's a big hole out in right field. Think you can drop it there?"

Claudia nodded but remained silent as she strode confidently to the plate.

"No high ones," Myka called out behind her hand.

Claudia turned back around to glare. "I like the high ones." Myka only smiled.

The first pitch was thrown too high, just as Myka knew it would be. Claudia swung at it anyway

"Strike!" came the call from the umpire.

The second pitch was thrown high again. She swung again and added another strike to her count. Claudia glanced over at Myka who stood on deck. "Too high," Myka mouthed.

Claudia glared down the pitcher, more determined than ever. The pitch was thrown; Claudia could see the ball coming down the line. She stepped forward and swung with all her might, but instead of hearing the crack of the bat, she heard the distinct thud of the ball as it rested snug in the catcher's mitt. Strike three, she was out.

Myka grabbed her bat and strode to the plate, passing Claudia a sympathetic look on the way. "You'll get the next one, Claud," she tried to assure.

Claudia silently nodded as she dragged her feet to the dugout, hearing the crowd begin to awake with claps and whistles as Myka approached the plate.

A man sitting among the crowd glanced up, taking notice of the tall woman striding towards home plate with a bat slung over her shoulder. Wearing a beige pantsuit and matching fedora, his teeth clamped on a cigar, he stood out among the farmers and other townsfolk dressed simply in jeans and cotton dresses. As he adjusted his hat, he had to concede the woman had caught an impressive game. Not a bad eye either as she pulled back on the first pitch just in time for the umpire to call a ball.

The second pitch was thrown straight down the middle. As Myka took her swing, the crack of the bat echoed and the crowd watched as the ball flew past the outfield to be lost in a wheat field.

The man in the fedora watched as Myka jogged around the bases, her teammates, waiting with cheers to meet her at home plate. The final score 3-2 for the Colorado Springs Dairy team. The crowd in the stands rose to their feet, clapping, and cheering for Myka.

It was obvious to the man Myka Bering was a favorite among the crowd and her teammates, judging by the way she was still immersed in a huddle of teammates congratulating her. She stood out among them, easily the tallest on the team, her smile wide and welcoming. Yes, he silently conceded, she would do all right.

* * *

"Thanks for saving the game out there today," Claudia spoke lowly.

Myka glanced at the young girl walking beside her. "Hey, you played a good game today, Claud, you always do. You caught that line drive in the third inning getting the final out, and you always know your cutoff. That's a skill."

"But I still struck out every time at plate. How can I be more like you?" Claudia complained as she kicked at the rocks in the dirt road they walked.

"Like me?" Myka laughed. "Why would you want to be like me? We already have one me. Be more like you."

"I just want to play well, the way you do."

"You do, Claud," Myka assured with a firm hand on the girl's shoulder. "As for batting, we'll work on it. If you like the high ones, we'll practice, I'll pitch them high for you until you can hit them."

"Really?" Claudia perked up.

Myka laughed. "Really. But not until after chores are done."

Claudia nodded and dropped into another silence.

"So," Myka started gently. "Have you heard anything from Joshua or Claire lately?"

Myka knew the topic of Claudia's family was a sensitive one for her. Orphaned when she was just ten when her parents died in a car crash, her brother Joshua had left school to come back to the family farm to take care of Claudia and her older sister Claire. The three of them struggled to keep the farm going, but it became too much for three young adults to manage. When the war broke out two years ago, Joshua signed up to join the Army and Claire joined the Red Cross.

The siblings had been in a conundrum what to do about Claudia though. She wasn't of age to live on her own or to join in the war effort.

Myka had been dealing with her own sense of loss at the time. Her younger sister Tracy left the family farm and their father's overbearing nature, to marry her high school sweetheart. Myka and Tracy had never been particularly close, but her absence was felt nevertheless when Myka alone was left to help care for the farm and deal with her father. And then there was Sam…Feeling tears burn her eyes, she shook her curly tresses, willing the memory of Sam away.

At any rate, when Myka found her neighbors, the Donovan sisters on her front porch one afternoon, she knew Claudia needed to be cared for. It had taken Myka and her mother a great deal of negotiating, but Warren Bering finally relented in allowing Claudia to live with them. He'd even managed a gruff nod of approval to her when shortly after her arrival she repaired the old tractor that sat useless in the barn for years.

Claudia had taken up residence in Tracy's old bedroom across the hall from Myka for the last two years now, and Myka found it difficult to imagine a time when Claudia wasn't there. Despite their ten-year age difference, the two had formed a relationship akin to sisters, though both would have to admit, they were closer to each other than they were their own sisters.

"I haven't heard from Joshua in a long while," Claudia admitted sorrowfully, breaking into Myka's musings.

"It's likely difficult to get any mail out wherever he may be in the Pacific," Myka spoke gently.

"Yeah," Claudia sighed. "But I did get a letter from Claire. She didn't say much, she's never been one for long letters, just that the work is a challenge, but she's glad to help the war effort any way she can."

"That's admirable," Myka agreed.

"Hey," Claudia perked up. "Last one to the barn has to muck out the stalls?"

Myka grinned. Claudia might be little but she was a fast runner. Still, she was no match for Myka's long legs and purposeful stride.

Before Myka could agree however, Claudia was off like a shot, Myka running to catch up to her.

* * *

Benedict Valda, a man of short, stocky build and a no nonsense attitude, looked more out of place walking through the farm yard than he had at in the baseball stands earlier that afternoon. Still dressed impeccably in a beige pantsuit and matching fedora, he looked about him with an air of distaste as he stepped gingerly through the yard, taking great care not to dirty his suit or step in any manure with his finely polished brown dress shoes.

Pulling the barn door open wide, it was almost comical to see two heads pop up to look around the cows they were milking to study him. Claudia looked at the man surprised, but Myka's clear green eyes reflected only scrutiny. She recognized the man from the baseball game they played that afternoon. She'd seen him in the stands, hard not to, she felt, given the spiffy suit he wore, but if Claudia's look of surprise was anything to go on, she was the only one in present company who felt that way.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he tipped his hat. "I'm Benedict Valda and I happened to see your game earlier today. I'm a baseball recruiter, right now working for Mr. Arthur Nielsen of Nielsen Cookies. Ever heard of him?"

"Yeah, his oatmeal scotchies are the best I've ever had," Claudia enthused rising to her feet.

"Yes, well, aside from being the famed cookie king, Mr. Nielsen is also an avid baseball fan, owning his own baseball franchise in Chicago. With the war in full swing, he's grown concerned that the source of eligible men to play the game has been depleted. He has decided to start a women's professional baseball league to try to assuage the depletion and keep the game alive, which is why I'm here now."

"Women's baseball, are you serious?" Claudia spoke wide-eyed. "Myka did you hear that?" she asked over her shoulder.

Myka rose to her full 5' 9" height, easily topping Mr. Valda. "I did, but I still don't know why you're here Mr. Valda."

"As I already mentioned, I saw your game this afternoon. You have considerable talent, Miss Bering, and I'd like to offer you a chance to play professional ball. Try outs are being held at Nielsen Field in Chicago."

Myka only raised a skeptical brow.

"It's a real league, professional," he added.

"Professional baseball for women!" Claudia practically squealed.

"Yes. They'll pay you seventy-five dollars a week," he said, his gaze still focused on Myka.

Claudia's jaw dropped at the sum. "We only make thirty at the dairy."

"This is considerably more then, isn't it?" he countered, briefly acknowledging Claudia. "Are you interested, Miss Bering?"

Myka briefly considered what she could do with that kind of money. She could pay for the college education her father refused her. Myka eyed the stocky man critically and shook her head in disbelief. "Seventy-five dollars a week? You can't be serious," she laughed.

"Well I'll go," Claudia spoke up enthusiastically. "Do I need to sign something?"

Valda looked at her rather as an annoying child. "The offer only extends to Miss Bering, I'm afraid," he said turning back to Myka who saw Claudia looked deflated at his quick dismissal of her.

"She's good," Myka encouraged. "She plays shortstop, you must have seen her catch that line drive today and get the out."

"No, you're what the league is looking for. You see, Miss Bering, not only are you a talented player, but you also have the…appearance the league wants for its women ballplayers," he said eying her figure appreciatively.

"Ah, I understand now," Myka nodded, knowing there had to be a catch somewhere in this too good to be true offer.

Valda shook his head. "I'm talking only looking, no touching. Your virtue will remain in tact. I'm to understand each team will have its own chaperone to assure that. Now, what do you say?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm needed here."

"Your country needs you as well, Miss Bering."

"To play baseball?" Myka shook her head disbelieving.

"To keep up morale."

"I'm sure there are other women who would be better to keep up morale than I," she argued.

"Very well, if that's how you feel about it, there's nothing left for me to do but wish you good day," he said tipping his hat before turning to retreat from the barn.

"Myka," Claudia looked at her baffled. "You can't just let him go." Myka only shrugged her shoulders disinterested.

Claudia turned away to run out of the barn. "Wait! Mr. Valda, wait!" she shouted catching up to the man in the middle of the yard amidst wandering chickens.  
"You can't leave. I can play, I can go with you to Chicago to play professional baseball."

Valda gave her an appraising look. She hadn't been half bad during the game actually and he couldn't deny she had spunk to her. He glanced back to the barn where Myka silently observed them.

"All right, I'll make a deal with you. If you can get Miss Bering to go, you can come too."

Claudia's entire face lit up. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he agreed. "The train leaves tomorrow at two."

"We'll be there," Claudia promised as she watched him walk away. She turned to look back at the barn seeing Myka standing near the open door, able to overhear their exchange. The grin on Claudia's face was unrestrained.

Myka frowned, knowing what Claudia would ask of her.

* * *

"Please, Myka," Claudia practically begged as they finished preparing supper that evening and began setting the table.

"Claudia, I have to help take care of the farm. They depend on me," she said motioning to her parents who sat in the living room listening to the radio.

Claudia looked too. "But what about you, Myka, what about what you need? I've known you for several years now, and in all that time, you've always put everyone else before you. Now's your chance to do something for yourself for once."

"You mean so you can go to the baseball tryouts too?" Myka smirked knowingly.

Claudia shrugged sheepishly. "Okay," she admitted, "part of my motive is selfish. I've got to get out of here, see something more than Colorado Springs. Be a part of something bigger, help the war effort like Joshua and Claire, however minor this may be. Please, Myka," she entreated once more.

Myka looked at the young girl, really looked. Claudia was only seventeen, still underage to join the Red Cross like Claire or the WACS or WAVES and wouldn't it be better for her to play baseball where Myka could keep an eye on her? Added to that, Myka knew what she wanted too. She wanted to get away from the farm, from her overbearing father, and for once in her life, do something she loved.

"You can use the money to go to college like you've always wanted," Claudia cleverly added.

Myka sighed heavily, torn between obligation and desire. She did so want to attend college and while it was true she did a fair amount of the work on the farm between household chores and caring for the animals, her father still worked the farm too and he had recently hired a hand to help with the more demanding work. Perhaps now was the time she could afford to leave.

Claudia still looked at her with anticipation. "All right," Myka agreed simply.

Claudia let out a shout that startled the chickens outside, engulfing Myka in a hug that knocked the taller woman backwards into the counter, laughing as silverware clattered to the floor.

"Stop all that ruckus in there!" Warren Bering shouted after them.

"Sorry!" Claudia called out. Softer to Myka she spoke, "You won't regret this."

Myka smiled. "I think you're right, Claud. This feels right," she agreed with a soft smile.

* * *

As Myka began packing that night, she was no longer so sure she was making the right decision. Her parents didn't take well to the idea, as she knew they wouldn't. Her father felt she would be better suited to work the farm, as she had done all her life. And her mother was concerned about two single women traveling alone. Myka had assured her Mr. Valda would escort them on this trip and if they made it onto a team, he'd explained that a chaperone would oversee each team. Jeannie Bering was only slightly comforted by the explanation, but didn't say another word against leaving for the tryouts.

The opened suitcase on her bed remained empty. Myka looked about her bedroom, wondering what besides her baseball uniform and mitt and a few dresses she should take with her. If she made a team, she knew it was likely she wouldn't be back home again for some time, if ever. How did one pack up a life in only a suitcase? More to the point, how did she choose just a few among many beloved books that adorned her bookcase to take with her? She fingered the spines of her books fondly. They had been better companions to her over the years than many of the people she'd known. With care, she selected several favorites, including the works of Shakespeare, HG Wells and Anthony Bishop, and carefully placed them in the suitcase among her dresses.

She glanced about her room once more, searching for anything else she might desire away from home. On her nightstand was a photograph of her family standing on the porch of the farmhouse, taken several years ago before Tracy left to get married. It was a rare photo in which they all seemed genuinely happy. Myka slipped the framed photograph gently between dresses, hoping to protect the glass from breaking during the trip.

There was another small photograph on her nightstand of Sam. He too looked genuinely happy and Myka knew he had been when the photograph was taken since she was the one who took it. She looked at his picture and smiled fondly. The sharp pain she used to feel when looking at his picture had faded some over the last few years to be replaced by a dull ache and a sweet remembrance. Sam had been kind and smart, and she had loved him.

Myka grasped the photograph in her hand, lightly tracing the features of his face with her finger. She turned to add his picture to her suitcase but then thought better of it. Sam was her past; this journey was about her future. It was time to let the go of the past to embrace her future. Resolutely Myka opened the drawer of her nightstand to place the photograph gently inside and firmly closed the drawer. She let out a sigh as she sat down upon her bed and glanced about her room once more.

Her old stuffed bear looked back at her from his seat at her desk where Myka had moved him as she began packing. She smiled to herself. The bear was as old as she was, given to her shortly after her birth. His once white fur was slightly discolored now, worn with age and use, Myka having lugged him around with her often as a child. He had certainly seen better days, she mused. Myka continued to look at the worn bear thoughtfully. Maybe he'd like to see Chicago.

Before she could think better of it, she grabbed the stuffed bear and placed him in her suitcase before closing and latching the lid. The items in the suitcase represented her life thus far, comprised of a few clothes, her baseball mitt, several books, a family photograph and a worn stuffed bear. She shook her head at the thought. It didn't seem enough somehow to represent her twenty-seven years of life.

Setting the suitcase on the floor, Myka turned down the bedcovers and slipped between the cool sheets. She turned off the light and lay listening to the crickets chirp outside her opened window, long after the rest of the house fell silent.

* * *

The train leaving at two the next afternoon didn't leave them much time to prepare. As Myka stood in the shade of the porch to say goodbye, it was obvious her father still wasn't pleased with the idea of her leaving to play baseball, but he did manage a gruff farewell, which was more than she expected. Her mother's reaction was surprisingly supportive, if tearful.

"You deserve to be happy, Myka," was all she said before offering her daughter a hug goodbye. "And you too, Claudia," she smiled as she embraced the younger girl.

"Thanks, Mrs. B," Claudia hugged back.

Myka and Claudia walked the two miles to the train station, because even though her father had let her go with some amount of goodwill, taking time away from work on the farm to drive them to the station would have been too much to ask.

Myka thought she'd allowed enough time for the walk, but it was a warm day again and she and Claudia carried three cases of heavy luggage between them. By the time they arrived at the station, it was just in time to see their train begin to pull out.

"Hurry," Myka called as she began to run, Claudia at her heels.

Benedict Valda sat comfortably in the train's observatory car, reading a newspaper. He really thought that redhead would have convinced Miss Bering to come, but here he was, leaving the station without them.

The train had just lurched forward, beginning its motion when he heard yelling coming from outside. Turning to look out the window, the tug at his lips was involuntary as a satisfied grin formed on his face. There was Miss Bering and that redheaded girl, running to catch the train.

"Mr. Valda! Wait! I got Myka, see!" he could hear the girl yell.

"Well, I'll say one thing for them, they can run," he muttered under his breath as he stood from his chair to meet them at the car door.

Myka cursed her dress and shoes as she struggled to catch up to the door of the train. Claudia too struggled to keep up with her.

A porter was at the door, attempting to help the women onto the train platform as Myka threw each piece of luggage on board before reaching behind her to pull Claudia forward, literally pushing her up onto the train before she herself climbed up.

Valda approached the women as they gasped for breath, both doubled over, trying to calm their racing hearts.

"Welcome aboard," Valda greeted them with a sly smile.

"When do we get to Chicago?" Claudia managed to breathe.

"In a few days. We need to make a stop first to Univille, South Dakota, to look at another girl."


	2. Chapter 2

**Univille, South Dakota April 1943**

"What is this place?" Myka asked stepping out of the car as she looked up at the building that lay before them virtually in the middle of nowhere.

"It's simply referred to as the warehouse," Valda remarked, leading Myka and Claudia inside.

Both women stood stunned as they took in the sight before them. A pristine baseball diamond lay inside the large facility. As they took a seat on benches on the sideline, they watched in silence, as it appeared the men on the field were in the midst of a practice game. No, not a game, more like batting practice as pitch after pitch was thrown to a batter who never missed.

"Mrs. Frederic, the caretaker of the warehouse, has a talent of determining potentially good ballplayers and recruiting them to the warehouse to train for possible entrance into the major leagues," Valda began to explain. "Arthur Nielsen looks almost solely to her for his ballplayers. In fact, it was Mrs. Frederic who suggested creating this woman's league to keep baseball active. Mr. Nielsen regards her highly and took her advice, so it is because of Mrs. Frederic you're here at all."

"But why South Dakota?" Claudia questioned skeptically.

"This is where Mrs. Frederic and the warehouse reside, Ms. Donovan," Valda replied factually. "Mrs. Frederic has recommended a player for this women's league now, so here we are."

"Charlie, where can I find Mrs. Frederic?" Valda asked an older man standing watching the batter at plate as he smoked a cigar.

"You don't find Mrs. Fredric, she finds you. Sometimes as if out of nowhere," he muttered, shaking his head. "The woman terrifies me."

Valda frowned at the remark. "What about the girl I'm supposed to be looking at then?"

"That's her at the plate," Charlie pointed.

Valda turned his attention back to the figure batting. Her face was obscured behind a ball cap and she seemed smaller than what he would expect from one who could hit so powerfully. But as he watched as yet another pitch found its mark against the bat, the ball soaring into the outfield, he conceded perhaps size didn't really matter.

"I see," was all he muttered as he continued to watch the girl hit pitch after pitch.

Myka and Claudia too, watched as the batter continued to hit fastballs, sliders, curveballs, all with nary a miss.

"She's good," Myka breathed.

"Yeah, real good," Claudia agreed.

"Bat left-handed now," came a voice from behind that resonated authority, startling the women. Myka and Claudia turned to see a woman dressed impeccably in a pink tweed skirt and jacket, her hair coiled into a tight bun and her stare sharp behind dark rimmed glasses. The men in the field groaned at the command, as it appeared the batter was equally skilled at batting left handed.

Valda turned to the woman. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Frederic," he said rising from the bench to greet her.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Valda," Mrs. Frederic replied with a brief smile.

"I see you've found another talented player."

"Yes indeed, this one much closer to home."

"Oh?"

"That's Leena at the plate," she smiled.

"Leena?" he asked spinning to look towards the batter in surprise. "I didn't realize she played ball."

"She's been around the warehouse for years, Mr. Valda. Did you really think she wouldn't learn the game and come to love it? Besides, she's a natural; I've never seen anything quite like her. She rarely misses a pitch."

The sound of the bat cracking echoed and both Valda and Mrs. Frederic turned to watch, as the ball seemed to soar higher and higher, before ricocheting off the farthest wall of the warehouse.

"Hmm," Valda rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry," Leena apologized, still gripping the end of the broken bat.

"It's alright, Leena," Mrs. Frederic spoke. "Their will be plenty of baseball bats where you're going, won't there, Mr. Valda?" she said meeting his scrutinizing gaze once more.

Valda offered a smirk. "I believe you're right, Mrs. Frederic. At any rate, my job is simply to bring the talent to the tryouts, the rest is up to the club owners to decide."

"No doubt they will know talent when the see it," Mrs. Frederic replied, smiling as she watched Myka and Claudia take Leena into their fold, talking and laughing with her.

"I've never seen someone hit so well as you, Leena," Myka commented. "You have incredible talent. How did you learn to hit like that?"

Leena shrugged self-depreciatingly. "I just see it."

"See what?" Claudia asked confused.

"The aura. It's an energy that radiates…everyone has one, animals, even objects…and I can see and feel that energy…from the pitcher to the ball, to me holding the bat…I can't explain it…I just feel it," she spoke softly.

"Do you ever miss?" Claudia asked curious.

Leena laughed. "It's been known to happen, but I don't make a habit of it," she spoke, her light eyes shining.

"Aura or no aura, maybe you could show me how you hit like that?" Claudia asked hopeful.

Leena looked at the girl appraisingly. "Maybe so."

Mrs. Frederic and Valda moved towards the trio. "Good afternoon, ladies," Mrs. Frederic greeted the newcomers. "I hope you're enjoying your visit to the warehouse."

"It's wonderful," Myka breathed. "I've never seen anything like it," she said looking back towards the field.

Mrs. Frederic looked pleased. "That's as it is intended. Mr. Valda tells me you're a catcher, Miss Bering. That's quite an important position to play, a unique position. You're the only member of the team to see the game from a different perspective. A position that can give one perspective."

"That's why I like it," Myka agreed, "for that different perspective. Not to mention the control it can have."

Mrs. Frederic nodded thoughtfully, meeting serious green eyes. "Quite right," she agreed. "You'll do well in the league, I'm sure," Mrs. Frederic spoke with approval, encouraging a soft, appreciative smile to bloom on Myka's features.

"And you, Miss Donovan," Mrs. Frederic spoke turning to Claudia who gulped under her astute gaze. "Shortstop is another important position in the game. You have to be quick and cunning for such a position, something I gather you embody."

"Well, I don't know about that…I hope so," Claudia stumbled over her words.

Mrs. Frederic stepped forward. "Believe in yourself, Miss Donovan, and you will go far," she spoke seriously.

Claudia gulped again and silently nodded.

"Leena can play virtually any position, though I think she's better suited as an infielder," Mrs. Frederic smiled fondly at her.

"I'll just be glad to play," Leena remarked smiling, "that is if I even make a team."

"Then you best all get your rest to be ready for the tryouts in a matter of days. Leena, please see our guests back to the B&amp;B, they'll stay there tonight before you all set off for Chicago in the morning."

* * *

Claudia whistled as they walked up the porch steps to a large Victorian home that was the bed and breakfast. "Pretty snazzy, if you ask me," she spoke to Myka.

Myka was inclined to agree as Leena led them through the B&amp;B, past a solarium and a library she very much wished to investigate further if time allowed.

"You live here?" Claudia asked.

"Yes," Leena replied, "and work here. The ballplayers stay here while they train and I cook meals for them and generally oversee things."

"Sounds challenging," Claudia spoke.

"Not really," Leena shook her curly head. "Most of the time it's quiet, like now. The players are at the warehouse all day practicing. They only come here for meals and to sleep. Most of my day is my own, I can go to the warehouse to join their practice or I can stay here, garden, or even read all day if I want."

"I would enjoy the reading aspect," Myka smiled.

Leena returned the smile. "And, as far as preparing the meals, I love to cook. The only challenge is keeping enough food on hand to feed twelve to fifteen players, plus Charlie, Mrs. Frederic, myself, and any guests that may come along, such as you."

The two women and Valda were led to their own bedrooms and the rest of the afternoon was spent at their leisure until dinner, Myka taking the available time to disappear inside the library.

* * *

"Still reading, I see. Can't you sleep?" asked a soft voice startling Myka from her place in her book.

She looked up to see Leena smiling at her as she stepped inside the library.

Myka smiled shyly in return. "I just couldn't resist the opportunity to pursue your library. I hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Leena smiled. "Mrs. Frederic has quite a collection," she said taking a seat beside Myka on the sofa.

Myka nodded. "That's putting it mildly," she said gazing about her with awe. "So many first editions," she breathed, gently fingering the cover of an HG Wells novel. "It's incredible. This private library is more impressive than the public library at home."

"Where is home?" Leena asked.

"Colorado Springs," Myka answered briefly. "My family has a farm there."

Leena looked at her thoughtfully. "And now is your time to get away from that."

"I don't know if it's so much about getting away as…finding…my way," she sighed.

"And playing baseball will do that?"

Myka shrugged. "I enjoy playing…and Mr. Valda said the league pays well. Hopefully it will be well enough for me to save to go to college."

Leena smiled. "I see. Knowledge is your passion."

"Something like that," she agreed grasping at the back of neck. "What about you, Leena?" Myka asked, hoping to redirect the attention from her. "How long have you lived here?"

"Nearly fifteen years," Leena replied. "I came looking for a job, which Mrs. Frederic provided, but she also gave me a home, a family. It's not going to be easy leaving here, even if it is only for several months," she sighed. "And speaking of leaving, I should probably finish packing," she said rising from the sofa. "Enjoy the library, Myka," she spoke leaving Myka alone once more.

Myka turned back to the novel, losing herself in the story once again.

* * *

Mrs. Frederic and Leena sat on a bench inside the train station as Myka, Claudia and Valda all waited outside on the platform for their train to arrive.

Leena was beginning to feel serious doubt about leaving. "Who's going to run the B&amp;B for you?" she protested.

"We'll be fine, Leena," Mrs. Frederic assured. "I will find someone to fill your position while you're gone and failing that, I'll have Charlie do the cooking."

Leena laughed out loud at that. "There will be nothing left of the B&amp;B." She sobered at the thought. "No, I can't go…"

"Leena," Mrs. Frederic soothed, "nothing is going to happen for you here. You must go where things will happen. You have so much potential, you need to find out all you're truly capable of."

"I'm going to miss you," Leena spoke truthfully.

"And I you," the older woman replied, gently guiding her arm around slight shoulders to offer a comforting hug. "The world is a wondrous place, Leena. The time has come for you to discover that fact on your own now," Mrs. Fredric smiled.

Leena brushed away a tear and nodded as she stood from the bench. "Thank you," she smiled through tears before Mrs. Frederic engulfed her in a hug.

"I promised you once I would take care of you, give you a life like you never had before. This is part of that life now…go on and embrace it."

"I will," Leena promised as she left Mrs. Frederic's side to join Myka and Claudia just boarding the train that arrived.

Mrs. Frederic remained standing on the train platform, long after seeing the train out of sight.

* * *

**Nielsen Field, Chicago, Illinois, April 1943**

Myka, Claudia and Leena stuck close together as they followed Valda through the tunnel leading out to the field. "Well, here you are, ladies, Nielsen Field at last," he motioned to the field briefly before retreating to turn back to the tunnel.

"Wait, you're not going to stay with us?" Claudia asked.

"Alas, dear girl, no. My job was to get you here, not hold your hand through tryouts. Best of luck to you though," he waved a hand.

Myka frowned at his retreating figure, but quickly focused back to the field before her.

Nielsen Field was filled with over a hundred other women all competing for a chance to play professional ball. It was daunting to say the least.

"Have you ever seen such a field before?" Claudia asked. "The grass…the dirt…it's all so…" she struggled for words.

"It is," Myka agreed with a smile, understanding Claudia's awe as she felt it herself.

"I had no idea so many other woman played ball," Claudia spoke aloud.

"I guess that means were not the freaks we thought we were then, doesn't it?" Leena asked her with a smile.

Claudia nodded. "Yeah."

Myka began walking towards the field with Claudia and Leena following right behind. The vision before her was stunning. Women everywhere, throwing, batting, running, shouting, laughing. It was like something out of a dream to find so many other women who also loved to play baseball. The trio walked among the crowd, immersing themselves and trying to get a feeling of the lay of the land.

"Are all these girls going to play in the league?" Claudia asked amazed.

"You wish," came a voice beside them followed by raucous laughter. Chicago natives and best friends from childhood, Bonnie Belski a tall honey-brunette and Lily Abbot, a platinum blonde, saw the trio and snickered at the obviously rural girls before them.

"What's so funny?" Claudia asked defensively.

"You are, short stuff," came Bonnie's easy reply, garnering her another snicker from Lily.

"Yeah, real funny if you think you're going to make the cut," Lily added.

"Why wouldn't I?" Claudia demanded.

"I'll break it to you gently, honey," Bonnie intoned. "There are over a hundred girls here trying out, with only four teams, fifteen girls to a team. You do the math."

Bonnie and Lily turned around then, still laughing.

"So, why should we be the ones to go home?" Claudia persisted.

Lily shot Bonnie a look, getting her friend's approval and without warning, turned and threw a ball directly at the three women.

Claudia ducked away, Leena standing behind Myka readied her mitt to catch the ball, but it was Myka, standing tall and firm who simply reached out reflexively and caught the hardball with her bare hand.

Bonnie and Lily's eyes widened. "Okay, some of them are going home," came Bonnie's uneasy response as Myka gently tossed her the ball and continued walking on, Claudia and Leena following right behind.

Bonnie and Lily watched them walk away. "We better go practice," Lily spoke hoarsely as the two women picked up their gear and moved away.

The scene that transpired did not go unnoticed. Another hopeful recruit, a woman with raven hair and dark eyes watched the entire scene unfold before her. As she continued to cast her gaze on the tall woman with brunette curls, a smile graced her lips. Her curiosity about the woman was aroused.


	3. Chapter 3

Pete Lattimer hated wearing ties. He was reminded of that fact as he pulled at his collar, trying to breathe. Ordinarily he wouldn't bother wearing anything so formal, but ordinarily he wouldn't have a reason to wear anything so formal. Artie Nielsen, the cookie king and at one time his boss, called him for a meeting and Pete had the good sense to at least make the attempt of a good impression, despite Mr. Nielsen knowing his failings. But he sure could use a drink right about now as he felt the dryness of his throat, his hands shaking with nerves.

Waiting inside Nielsen's ornate office, Pete pulled at his tie yet again and moved towards a globe in the center of the room. Trying to distract himself, he gave it a strong spin, perhaps too strong as it began to topple on its legs precariously.

Pete reached out to steady the globe just as Arthur Nielsen opened the door to the office with a bang, startling Pete whose grasp on the globe slipped momentarily, and there was panic from both parties that the globe would fall to the floor, but Pete's reflexes caught up in time to steady the globe and once again set it standing.

"Hey there, Artie – I mean Mr. Nielsen," Pete remembered to address the formidable man before him.

"Pete Lattimer," Artie shook his head, at once wondering why he bothered to follow Mrs. Frederic's recommendation regarding the man child before him.

Artie grabbed a plate of oatmeal scotchies off the table near the door, noticing there were fewer than when he'd left his office before Pete's arrival.

Still, Pete took another cookie as it was offered.

"Would you like something to drink with that?" Artie asked. "Juice or milk?"

"You know what I'd really like?" Pete asked with a nostalgic look in his eye.

"Oh I do indeed," Artie interrupted. "But falling off the wagon may not be the best option at this point."

Pete shook his head as he bit into his cookie, spinning the globe again distractedly.

"Pete! Don't touch," Artie admonished as he reached out to stop the globe from spinning.

"Sorry."

Artie sighed, for now Pete really did look like a child at the chastisement.

"Listen, Pete," Artie began softening his tone slightly, "I've called you here today because I have a proposition for you. A job I think you'll enjoy."

"What is it?" Pete asked absently fondling a glass paperweight he found on Artie's desk.

"Don't touch," Artie spoke again, taking the paperweight from his hands and carefully setting it back in its place. He sighed heavily. "Let's take a walk outside to talk. We'll get some fresh air…and you won't be able to touch anything," he said leading Pete outdoors.

Artie Nielsen surveyed the grounds before him with pride. The son of a Jewish piano teacher, he had come a long way from the days when his parents were immigrants to the new country. Now, at sixty-three years of age, he was a prominent businessman owning the most successful cookie company in the country, that all started with his signature oatmeal scotchies. Gone were the days of living in cramped apartments, now he had a mansion with acreage that spread for miles. He owned his own baseball club and now had begun a new league for women, albeit at the foresight of Mrs. Frederic.

Artie looked over at the young man walking beside him. Pete Lattimer was a born baseball player, a man who once played first base for Artie's team the Chicago Neutralizers. Pete had hit an impressive 487 home runs for his club, leading them to win a World Series game in 1939 where Pete hit three home runs, two in game three alone. Yes, Pete had been a fine ballplayer until the bottle became mightier than the ball.

"I've called you out here today, Pete, because I have a potential job for you," Artie began again. "As you may have heard, I'm starting a women's baseball league."

Pete nodded. "I did hear something about that."

"With most of the men overseas in the war, I thought it might be a good idea to keep the game alive, and my finances," he admitted, "by allowing the women a chance to play."

"Sounds reasonable," Pete agreed. "But how exactly do I fit into this, Mr. Nielsen?"

"I'm offering you the job of managing one of the teams."

"Me?" Pete asked surprised. "You want me to manage a women's baseball team?"

"I have my reservations, I admit," Artie went on, "but Mrs. Frederic thinks you'd make a good manager…and after all, she was right about you being a good ballplayer."

"Mrs. Frederic," Pete tilted his head back with a laugh. "I haven't seen her in ages. Bet she still looks the same. Even old Mother Nature wouldn't dare cross Mrs. Frederic."

Artie barked out a laugh. "That's true," he nodded, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "She'll outlive us all, I'm sure, but that's not what I want to talk with you about. Pete, the fact is, you're a hell of a ballplayer. I won't ever forget your contribution to our win in '39 and it's because of your talent that I'm offering you this job. "But before I do…I have to know, are you finally sober?"

Pete let out a short laugh. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"I need to know," Artie replied firmly.

Pete stopped walking to meet Artie's spectacled eyes. "It's taken me a long time getting here, but yes, I'm sober," he answered sincerely.

"Good then," Artie smiled, patting him on the back as they resumed walking.

"In fact, I have you to thank for it," Pete went on.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Every time I felt the need for a drink, I'd reach for one of your cookies instead. Matter of fact, you might be to blame for my somewhat less than godlike figure now," Pete laughed.

Artie laughed with him. "I'll take that blame if it means you lay off drinking. So, you think you can handle being a manager?"

Pete nodded. "Yeah, women love me and I love them. It's a win-win situation," he grinned.

"They'll be no fraternization, Pete," Artie scolded.

"Ah, you take away all the fun," he complained good-naturally. "But seriously, Mr. Nielsen, Artie, I appreciate you giving me another chance. I won't let you down this time."

"I'm depending on it," Artie said.

"So when do I start…managing?"

"Soon. Tryouts are being held as we speak. The teams should be selected by the end of the week, then the ladies will be sent to charm and beauty school for another week before the season actually begins."

"Charm and beauty school?" Pete asked surprised.

"My idea. I want to make sure the public sees these women as ballplayers, yes, but also as nothing less than ladies. I have Steve Jinks at the field now overseeing tryouts and he'll also make sure they complete the charm school."

"Glad I only have to manage the team, not oversee charm and beauty too," Pete whistled.

"Indeed. You can start managing next week. The ladies will spend most of their day at the finishing school, but there will be a few hours left for practice as well."

"How many teams are there?"

"Only four just now. I have no idea if the public will watch women's baseball and I don't want to invest in something that isn't going to make a profit."

"That's smart."

"I thought so," Artie agreed.

"And my team?"

"Oh, yes of course the teams. There's the Michigan Regents, the Illinois Apples, the Indiana Rockets and your team, the Wisconsin Wonders."

"The Wonders, huh?" Pete tried out the name. "Sounds like a winning team to me."

* * *

Myka had never participated in such rigorous training in her life. Every day there was running, fielding, batting, throwing and catching for hours until a short break for lunch. And then it was more of the same for a few more hours more after that. By the time they made it back to the hotel after practice, it was all they could manage not to fall asleep at the dinner table. Claudia did fall asleep in her clothes the first night, Myka didn't have the heart to wake her and so just removed her cleats, pulled a blanket over her and let her sleep.

Myka stayed close to Claudia and Leena as they completed their morning exercises including base running exercises. Myka could sense the coaches were impressed with Claudia's speed and her own. In fact, she would wager they were the fastest runners in all the women trying out, bare one. A woman with raven hair and dark eyes who brushed past Myka with a knowing smirk that left her feeling flustered.

"Do you know her?" Claudia asked as she witnessed the look shared between the women.

Myka remembered practice the day before where she found herself catching a practice game.

_Myka glanced out to the infield. There was a runner at second leading off when the batter hit a ground ball that straddled the foul line towards left field that was called fair. The play should only have been a single, but the speed of the ball and miscommunication between the players in the field had the ball drifting into shallow left field. The runner at second saw her opportunity and took it. As the fielder raced for the ball, Myka instinctively knew the runner would try to score a run. _

_She watched as the runner rounded third, making her way directly towards home plate. Myka took her position at the plate, glove open waiting for the ball to be thrown in, knowing it was going to be a tight play. The ball was finally thrown in, Myka felt it land in her glove and she turned just as the runner barreled towards her, knocking her off her feet. For a moment, Myka lay stunned, feeling the weight of the runner now laying over her. Myka blinked, trying to focus her eyes only to be met with intelligent, dark brown eyes staring down at her._

"_Crowding the plate, aren't you darling?" the woman asked softly in an accented voice, an amused smirk crossing her delicate features._

_Myka felt the breath knocked out of her, but was uncertain if it was from being literally swept off her feet or by the combination of the other woman's English accent and amused expression. Myka remained speechless as the woman helped her up onto her feet again._

"_Way to hold onto the ball there," one of the coaches complimented Myka for getting the out but Myka barely heard him as her attention was still drawn to the runner who dispersed among the other players._

"Myka? Do you know her?" Claudia asked again drawing her out of her remembrance.

Myka grasped her neck and shook her riotous curls. "No, I don't know her. Why?"

"The way she looked at you…I don't know, I just thought maybe you'd already met. Anyway, she sure does fly around those bases," Claudia spoke impressed.

"She does," Myka agreed. "Looks like you and I finally have some competition in that department," Myka smiled.

For two days straight, the coaches worked the women hard and Myka wasn't just tired for her sake, but for Claudia's and Leena's as well. She tried to watch over the two women, but for most of tryouts, as a catcher, she'd been pulled away from them as they trained with other infielders and she trained alongside other catchers and pitchers, trying to find a pitcher that fit her.

It was difficult to find just the right balance between a good pitcher and catcher duo. Myka knew that all too well. There had to be just the right balance of talent, determination and above all, instinct. There also had to be communication. If Myka gave the signal for a particular pitch, she expected to see that pitch thrown at her. But on the flip side of the coin, if the pitcher had a feeling about another pitch being better for the situation, she expected them to go with that instinct.

The pitchers and catchers had all been paired up throughout the day to find the duo whose styles melded. She'd yet to find her one, that pitcher that knew her better than anyone else. By the last day of tryouts, Myka had almost given up hope of finding a pitcher that melded with her until she was paired with an auburn-haired woman with a wide smile and a firm handshake.

"I'm Rebecca St. Clair…I mean Secord," she laughed at herself. "Rebecca Secord," she said again shaking Myka's hand in introduction.

Myka glanced down to her left hand to see a wedding band gleaming in the afternoon sun. She smiled. "Newly married?" she guessed.

Rebecca smiled. "Yes. Jack and I have known each other for years, but he enlisted in the Marines. He felt duty bound to go and I wasn't about to stop him. Still, I'm glad we decided to marry before he was deployed. We've only been married a little over a month, and he's already gone overseas."

"I'm sorry," Myka spoke.

Rebecca shrugged. "That's life, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Myka sighed. "That's life."

Rebecca Secord was a good pitcher, Myka thought. Most of the coaches on the field seemed to think so too as they stood by the sidelines and silently nodded. Yes, Rebecca was good, but she lacked the instinct Myka sought, depending almost entirely on Myka to decide each pitch. Myka would prefer more of a partnership with a pitcher who knew instinctively as well as Myka what kind of pitch to throw when.

Still, Myka was content with Rebecca. They had managed to talk during breaks and the woman was intelligent and had an easy demeanor about her that made working with her a pleasant experience. Yes, Myka felt she and Rebecca would make a good team if given the opportunity.

However, destiny seemed to have another idea. At the end of the day, the coaches brought over one last pitcher for Myka to try out. The dark-haired, dark eyed woman was beautiful, that couldn't be denied, and Myka felt her throat go dry as she recognized the woman as the same one who could outrun her during the base run exercises, the same woman who knocked her off her feet during the practice game.

"I'm Helena Wells, or HG if you like," she spoke shaking Myka's hand firmly with that already well-known smirk in place.

Something about that smirk was Myka's undoing. How could anyone be so…so…much? Myka couldn't place her initial feelings towards the other woman and that made their introduction aggravating for her. That and the woman's Midwestern drawl that somehow seemed so out of place with such exquisite features. Maybe Myka had hit her head during that play the other day, but she felt certain the woman before her now spoke with an English accent as she hovered over Myka at home plate.

Myka narrowed her eyes at the woman as they shook hands, sensing something was off about her.

"HG? As in HG Wells?" Myka scoffed in disbelief.

The other woman's dark eyes flashed with something like amusement. "That's correct. I was given the initials of the famous writer, why not capitalize on that?"

Myka huffed at the explanation. "All right…HG, let's see what you've got then," she said placing the ball in her hand before drawing the catcher's mask over her face and walking towards the plate.

Clearing her head of any doubt, she took her kneeling position at the plate as HG threw a few practice pitches. She wasn't bad, Myka had to concede. The pitches were strong, delivered right down the middle. As a batter took their place at the plate, Myka started to sign for different pitches, a curveball here, now a fastball followed by hardball. All were delivered impeccably. Myka had been signing pitches in a pattern, just to keep it simple. The batter came to figure out the pattern; so did HG.

The next pitch Myka signaled for a fastball. HG shook her head. No other pitcher the last three days of tryouts had questioned Myka's signals. Myka signaled for the fastball again. Again HG shook her head defiantly, and was that a hint of a smirk?

Myka signaled for a hardball instead. Still a shake of raven tresses from HG, and that was most definitely a smirk on her face now.

Myka grunted behind her mask annoyed. Finally, Myka signaled for a curveball. HG gave an almost aristocratic nod and practically launched the ball down the line; Myka felt the ball land snug in her glove. It was a strike for the batter and a pitcher for the catcher. Myka knew it, the coaches all knew it from the sidelines where they nodded approvingly and HG apparently knew it too as she looked at Myka with those dark eyes.

"Looks as if I won't be your pitcher after all," Rebecca commented as Myka began taking off her catching gear.

"I don't know about that," Myka replied, "we do really well together."

Rebecca laughed. "True, but you and HG were made for each other, everyone could see that."

Myka dropped down to release her shin guards, trying to hide the blush at Rebecca's choice of words. Made for each other sounded so…intimate.

"Don't you think so?" Rebecca prodded at Myka's silence.

Finally free of her gear and feeling the remainder of her blush could be seen as heat from playing, she stood and shrugged her shoulders. "She's got a good arm," Myka agreed, "but she also doesn't seem to like to follow direction."

"I simply changed up the pitches from the routine you set, darling. A little change of rules could be just what our team needs to lead it to victory," a familiar voice spoke up from behind.

Myka turned to see HG grinning at her. "Our team?" Myka asked dubiously.

"Yes. I've just spoken to one of the coaches and apparently they match the catchers and pitchers first, seeing as they need just the right chemistry, and then they build the rest of the team around them. It appears you and I have been matched."

Myka grasped the back of her neck rubbing it awkwardly. What was it with the words being thrown about today…chemistry and matched, really? "So what team are we on then?" was all she could think to ask.

"The Wisconsin Wonders. They're compiling the final list of the teams now and should post it momentarily."

"In that case, I better see if I made the cut," Rebecca spoke.

"Yeah, I need to find out how Claudia fared too," Myka spoke as she followed Rebecca, HG walking silently beside her.

Myka watched as one of the coaches posted the list of names on a bulletin board near the stands. Her stomach knotted with anticipation. Myka wanted Claudia to make a team desperately. If she didn't, she was unsure how to cope with that kind of disappointment from the young girl. Myka knew Claudia had given her best effort. Her running, throwing, and fielding were all exceptional. Batting however…Myka brushed the hair from her sweat dampened face. Claudia would make a team; she had to.

HG studied the taller woman beside her. The look in Myka's eyes was one of worry.

"That young woman is close to you?"

Myka turned to meet HG's curious stare. "Claudia? Yeah, she might as well be my kid sister," she admitted. "She's actually the one who talked me into coming here."

"I'll have to thank her for that," HG commented.

Myka turned away as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "I wouldn't thank her just yet. We haven't even played a full game together yet. We may want to strangle each other before this is all over."

HG laughed. "I'll risk it," she said meeting Myka's eyes once more.

"Myka! Myka!" Claudia yelled excitedly as she ran towards the two women, effectively breaking their stare. "I made it!" she shouted embracing Myka who stumbled backwards trying to catch the ball of energy before her. Unable to do so, both she and Claudia fell onto the grass laughing.

"I made it, Myka! I'm a Wonder, just like you."

"You certainly are," Leena laughed, as she caught up to the women lying sprawled in the grass. "We're all Wonders," she smiled as she offered a hand to help the women up.

"It seems I'm a Wonder as well," Rebecca commented as she joined the small group. "Myka, we apparently do make a good team, though not so well as you and HG here," she acknowledged. "I'll be your relief pitcher, HG."

"Lovely," HG smiled.

"HG?" Claudia asked confused glancing at the dark haired woman.

"Yes, Helena G. Wells, or HG if you'd like."

"HG Wells? Like Myka's favorite author HG Wells?" Claudia asked surprised.

"We only share the name," HG assured, glancing at Myka who looked away suddenly self-conscious.

"You're also the one who beat both Myka and I in the base run every morning, aren't you?" Claudia asked amazed.

"I believe I am," HG agreed with a grin.

"I've never known anyone to beat Myka running. The way you traveled around those bases…it was…something."

"Thank you, darling," HG laughed. "I appreciate your kind sentiment."

"And Myka's going to catch for you – there's no one better than Myka," Claudia spoke, her admiration evident.

"Yes, I've gathered that as well," HG assented, meeting Myka's shy glance with a sincere smile. "I'm looking forward to our time together. With all of you," she amended breaking her stare with Myka to include the other women.

Claudia looked around the small group of women and smiled. This was going to be a good season for her team the Wisconsin Wonders; she just knew it.

* * *

"Congratulations, you are the first members of the All American Girls Baseball League," a coach spoke to the group of women sitting on the field. Applause and whistles filled the air at the declaration. "My name is Adwin Kosan and I will be managing the Michigan Regents. The rest of you will meet your managers in a few days."

"Now, at the end of practice today, you're all going to be fitted for your baseball uniforms, and this is what they'll look like," he motioned to a woman climbing onto the dugout roof to model a tunic like uniform with short sleeves and an even shorter skirt.

"I can't slide in that," complained one woman.

"That's a dress!" yelled another.

"Half a dress – that's not a baseball uniform."

"What are we, ballplayers or ballerinas?"

"It's awfully short," Claudia whispered uneasily to Myka.

"Yeah, and I'm going to have to squat in that thing," she sighed dolefully.

Standing along the sideline, Steve Jinks heard the complaints and secretly agreed with the protests from the women. He didn't exactly approve of the uniform either, not understanding why the women couldn't play in uniforms similar to the men but Mr. Nielsen wouldn't hear of it. He had insisted the women ballplayers not be mistaken for men, thus the dress like uniforms.

Hearing the unrest among the group, Steve walked towards the crowd, politely removing his hat to speak to them. "Ladies, I'm sorry, but if you can't play ball in this uniform," he motioned again to the model, "you can't play ball with us." Silence descended among the group. "Right now there are dozens of women with a train ticket home who will play ball in a bathing suit if asked."

"There's no pockets for my cigarettes," Lily yelled, garnering a snicker from Bonnie and other women in the group.

Steve grimaced. "There is no smoking in the league. There's also no drinking and no men. Each of your social engagements will be approved by your team chaperones. In addition, each of you will have regular classes at charm and beauty school."

"For what?" Kelly Hernandez asked annoyed, smacking her gum.

"Each girl in this league is going to be a lady," Mr. Jinks replied.

"What are we now?" came the smart reply.


End file.
